


BSL-2 Special Practices

by Charnia



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charnia/pseuds/Charnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU fic where Cadryn Amell is a postdoc in a cell bio lab, and the other party members are part of the research group.  Cadryn is having a really bad day, and Zevran offers some distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BSL-2 Special Practices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raidho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/gifts).



> The title, BSL-2 Special Practices, ordinarily refers to any special precautions needed for working with a particular biosafety level 2 agent, but is intended rather differently here! Written for Raidho (http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/pseuds/Raidho) using his Cadryn Amell, hopefully I am returning him not too disarrayed.

Cadryn looked through the microscope and saw, as he feared, his lymphocytes were dying. It was the last thing to go wrong in a long and frustrating day. He groaned, and Zevran looked over from his seat in front of the hood.

“What’s the matter, Dr. Amell?” His teasing tone didn’t disguise a hint of concern in his voice.

“They’re dying. Three weeks down the drain,” Cadryn said despondently.

Zevran finished wiping down the hood with ethanol and closed the sash. He came over and stood behind Cadryn, resting his hand on Cadryn’s shoulder. Cadryn shifted to give Zevran a clear view through the microscope. “They don’t seem to be contaminated,” Zevran said.

“No, who knows what went wrong. Now what am I supposed to do?” Zevran stepped out of the way as he rolled the chair back from the bench and carried the dish to the sink. He squirted bleach solution into the dish, watching the media change color to purple-pink.

Zevran said, “You have transfections to do too, right? Why don’t you work on those this week. I can shuffle things around, I’ll round up another blood donor and get some more cells going for you. Lel won’t mind waiting on those clones.”

Cadryn pitched the dish into the biohazardous waste. Turning to Zevran, he said, “You don’t have to do that. I’ll manage.” Zevran was the lab tech, but Cadryn was clear that he wasn’t Cadryn’s lab tech, no matter how partial they might be towards each other outside work.

Zevran smiled, but his eyes had that stubborn glint to them. “No, you’ve been entirely too stressed out lately, and it’s making me stressed out too. You know what you need?”

Cadryn could imagine what Zevran might think he needed. The last time Zevran had asked that question was right before Cadryn’s paper got accepted by PNAS, and the answer involved staying up until 2 a.m. in bed with Zevran and a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Some sleep?” he suggested. He had to present for lab meeting tomorrow—the news of this latest failure would make Anora glower—and the last thing he needed was a hangover.

“I was thinking some more immediate relief,” Zevran said, and Cadryn felt a tingle of arousal at his wicked smile. Zevran stepped close to kiss Cadryn, and he felt himself relaxing at the familiar interplay of lips and tongues. But it quickly became obvious that Zevran had something more than simple making out in mind, as he unbuttoned Cadryn’s lab coat, pushing it off his shoulders, and then started to unbutton his jeans.

With a protest muffled by Zevran’s kiss, Cadryn pushed Zevran’s hands away, and he broke the kiss to see what was the matter. "I think everyone's gone home, but it's best to be careful," he said. Zevran looked disappointed for a moment, but then Cadryn switched off the lights in the tissue culture room and pulled Zevran back into the corner by the far bank of incubators, where someone walking by the window to the lab outside wouldn’t be able to see them easily. Zevran laughed as Cadryn pulled him close, bending to suck Zevran’s earlobe. In spite of the distraction Zevran went back to unzipping Cadryn’s jeans, and he moaned as Zevran’s hand rubbed him through his underwear.

Just then someone opened the door to the tissue culture room. They froze. When Cadryn heard humming he knew it was Leliana, though he couldn’t see her past the incubators. Fortunately she didn’t bother turning on the lights, but went to her incubator on the other side of the room and then headed to the microscope. She was still humming as she bent over the microscope, her back to them.

Cadryn could feel Zevran shaking against him as he tried to suppress laughter, and felt Zevran’s thumb circling the head of his cock through the thin cloth. He bit his lip, rigid, trying not to move or make any sound, though Leliana wasn’t likely to hear them through the music she played constantly on her iPod. After a few long minutes she straightened up and carried the dish back to the incubator, breaking out into song, “ _Près des remparts de Séville, chez mon ami, Lillas Pastia—_ ” Still singing, she went out the door, closing it behind her. A minute later the lights in the main lab went out, leaving the tissue culture room lit only dimly by the emergency lights.

Finally safe from discovery, Cadryn pushed Zevran back against the incubators, pulling his head back by his long hair to kiss him, his sudden ferocity drawing an amused noise from Zevran’s throat. With his free hand he started to unbutton Zevran’s jeans, but Zevran stopped him with a hand on his wrist and said, “Time for that later.”

Pushing Cadryn away, he sank to his knees and pulled Cadryn’s jeans and boxers down before suddenly taking Cadryn in his mouth. Cadryn leaned back against the wall, one hand on the incubator and the other on Zevran’s head, fingers twined in his blond hair. He tilted his head back against the wall as Zevran’s tongue played along his shaft, and made a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan.

The last time they had done anything like this, behind the shelves in the storage room, Zevran had dragged things out, teasing him endlessly until he was half-mad with frustration. This time he seemed to want to finish quickly, and quickly sped up, backing off smoothly to hold only Cadryn’s head in his mouth before plunging forward to take in his length. Cadryn soon had both hands on Zevran’s head, trying to fight the impulse to thrust into his mouth. But it seemed Zevran was trying to get him to do just that, using every trick he’d learned to break Cadryn’s resolve. Finally, he thrust reflexively, and Zevran rewarded him with one last flick of his tongue over Cadryn’s tip, then slid down him, sucking so his cheeks hollowed. The heat and suction were too much, and Cadryn gasped and came, feeling Zevran’s throat work as he swallowed. Feeling almost limp with release, Cadryn dropped his hands to his sides. Zevran slowly slid off him, giving a final lick to his tip before standing, smiling at Cadryn still leaning against the wall, flushed and out of breath.

Finally Cadryn said, “In the tissue culture room. Alistair would be horrified.”

Zevran shrugged and said with a grin, “Could be worse, we could be getting your DNA all over the PCR clean room.” He tilted his head. “Are you feeling more relaxed, Dr. Amell?”

“Perhaps,” he said with mock grudgingness. He hesitated, then thought the hell with it. He’d finish prepping for his lab meeting in the morning. “Do you want to come home with me?”

“Of course—if it will improve your mood.”

“Good. After all, we are not yet finished,” Cadryn said, and pulled Zevran close for another kiss.


End file.
